


Urban Dining

by AgentOHare



Series: G1 Vore [3]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Digestion, Gen, Soft Vore, Vore, giant, hunger, implied fatal, micro/macro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 16:39:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11673015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentOHare/pseuds/AgentOHare
Summary: See kids, this is why you always keep your 700 foot tall cityformer well fed...





	Urban Dining

There wasn't much that a 698 foot tall titan like Metroplex couldn't handle. He’d been shot at by every weapon imaginable, went toe to toe with the behemoth Trypticon- hell, he even had his transformation cog stolen. However, something managed to grate on his nerves one not-so-fine day: an empty fuel tank. The scientists inhabiting the cityformer usually filled his fuel reserves with part of the monthly energon shipments. Recently, the newest shipment was very late due to Decepticon involvement, so the Autobot troops were subsisting on the meager ration supply. Consequently, this meant that their city’s fuel reserves were running dry.

It wasn't like Metroplex could go and get some fuel like the other bots. Even if he could, all of the remaining energon rations combined would be no more than a light snack to the giant. This fact was of no comfort to him. Hunger was an alien sensation to him; a gnawing, curling feeling in his gut that lent itself alongside sensations of dizziness and weakness. The fuel reserves were dry for about two weeks at this point. The poor bot was absolutely famished, but he did not complain to any of the scientists about it. After all, he was a big bot. There wasn't much he couldn't handle, and that included the incessant growls that came from his core, seemingly to taunt him.

…

“ _Decepticons!_ ” A voice cried out from one of Metroplex’s watch towers.

The Autobots immediately scrambled, assembling outside the city walls to meet the oncoming horde. Within minutes, chaos erupted. Energy bullets screamed as they ripped through the air and whichever unfortunate spark happened to be in the way while swords and axes clashed. The Decepticon troops seemed to be on tap- they were flowing in from all sides! The Autobots were having a hard time keeping up. Soldiers were dropping like flies, many were injured, and our heroes were overall getting desperate. And desperate times call for desperate measures.

“ _Metroplex, engage!”_ Wheeljack called through the titan’s commlink. _“Prepare for combat!”_

After running a scan to make sure no one else was inside, Metroplex transformed, standing tall and proud as the midday sun glittered on his windows. The metrotitan was not as radiant as he appeared, however, as the act of transforming and standing up so suddenly set off an explosion of stars and dizziness in his vision. He thanked Primus that Trypticon wasn't there; the beast would have annihilated him in this state. That horrible ache in his metal stomach reached a fever pitch, forcing Metroplex to bite down a groan. His fuel tank was so empty that it actually _hurt_ now. He simply wasn't _at all_ used to hunger of any kind, much less the intense, biting kind that plagued him now.

As he marched forward, his mind wandered to memories of the scientists connecting a hose to an internal fuel port and the feeling of his fuel tank filling up with delicious, smooth, city-grade _energon…_

_*grrooooooaaaaan…*_

The roar that came from Metroplex's fuel tank at that moment would have put Predaking to shame. Some of the troops on both sides panicked at the monstrous sound, figuring that Abominus had arrived.

Metroplex fired his turrets and smashed Decepticons almost absent mindedly. His thoughts mainly circled around how miserable he felt and the conversations he happened to overhear. For some reason, he recalled an exchange between First Aid (whom he remembered because he realigned his transformation cog) and a scientist whose name was lost to him.

_First Aid entered the main laboratory, datapad in tow, and approached a lab table where a red microscope was analyzing some cybermatter slides._

_“Perceptor..”_

Perceptor! That was his name…

_Said scientist made a curious sound, transforming so his optics could meet First Aid’s._

_“Ah, First Aid! What brings you here today, my friend?”_

_“I’m on break and I wanted to see how you were doing.” The medic replied. “How have you been feeling?”_

_“Quite well as of late.”_

_“I mean concerning… y’know…” he gestured to his stomach._

_“Oh.” Perceptor laid a hand on his abdomen. “Just fine, considering I ingested a live human.”_

At that point in time, Metroplex thought the scientist was just joking around, but he would soon be proved wrong.

_“That’s good.” First Aid handed the datapad to Perceptor. “I had an idea earlier. After swallowing Michael, I noticed that I felt no hunger pains when they should usually remain for a while even after eating. If we could have a smaller internal drone that emulated Michael’s physiology and outfitted it with surgical equipment…”_

_“Then we could have an easier means of internal gastric surgery.” Perceptor finished, wearing a giddy, ‘let's get started right away’ look on his faceplate._

That got Metroplex thinking. The energon would not arrive for a while yet, not with all these Decepticons running around. If he did not eat soon, he would pass out right in the middle of the battlefield.

And those ‘cons were made of warm, tangy metal…

* _grummmble…*_

There went his stomach again. The titan looked down at the Decepticons below him, forming an idea. He wasted no time in comming Perceptor.

 _“Metroplex to Perceptor, come in. My fuel levels are critical. I know you'll understand what I'm about to do…”_ He shut off the comm before a confused Perceptor could reply. Those ‘cons would die by his hand anyway, so he figured this would be okay.

The giant leered down at the Decepticons dashing by his feet with a feral glint in his visor. Many pairs of ruby red optics widened as their owners became frozen with fear. He could take it no longer. This infernal hunger would end _now._

_*grrrrrroooooowlllll…!*_

Metroplex licked his lips as a beastly roar erupted from his fuel tank. Now those Decepticons _knew_ that roar didn't come from Abominus…

Wasting no time, Metroplex stooped down and caught a generic Seeker type by the wings as he flew by, bringing him to the enormous face. Those cons were an inch tall to the titan. The horrified Seeker thrashed wildly to free himself, but it was no use.

“Hmm… You look delectable enough…”

To the Seeker’s terror, the giant opened his enormous mouth and tossed him inside. The huge glossa began to coat him in so much saliva that he genuinely thought he would drown. The glossa was absorbing every metallic flavor it could find, and its owner was enjoying every second of it. Too soon, the flavor had all been sucked out, so Metroplex casually pushed the Seeker to the back of his throat and swallowed. He barely felt the Seeker traveling down his hungry gullet, and when his prey splashed into the fuel tank the giant knew that he needed more. After all, one tiny morsel does not a full metrotitan make...

“Mmm, tasty…” Metroplex crooned, licking the flavor ghosting on his lips. His fuel tank twisted and churned, begging for more as he reached to grab a handful of Decepticons. “I’ll just help myself to some more, if you don't mind. After all, I am _very_ hungry…”

He scooped up more troops and dumped him into his gargantuan maw, much like someone would do with a handful of granola. This time, he didn't spend so much time savoring his treats since he had plenty more to eat. With each gulp, one to three Decepticons slid smoothly down to join the Seeker in the cavernous gut. They screamed and attacked the fuel tank walls, but didn't so much as scuff the sturdy organ as it began to flood with digestive solvent.

Metroplex was having a full-on feeding frenzy now. He was still hungry, and nothing short of fullness would make him stop. In both hands fistfuls of Decepticons writhed and squirmed. They wiggled as they were forced down the giant esophagus. The titan was now swallowing so many ‘cons at a time that they created a visible bulge in his neck. Slowly but surely he ate and ate fistful after fistful until finally he could eat no more.

By the time Metroplex was sated, the enemy had retreated and nearly five hundred Decepticons were stuffed into his fuel tank. They formed a pulsating, wriggling mass that just felt _so good_ whenever they tried to squirm. The metrotitan’s abdominal plating had shifted to form a slight bulge to accommodate such a hefty meal. He laid down in the field in a fullness induced bliss, using one hand to massage and caress the happily gurgling bump. He let out a great yawn and let recharge take him as his huge, powerful stomach worked double time, churning and tossing the ‘cons about in the digestive solvent where they would be broken down into their elemental parts and join the massive form of the Autobot city.

The Autobot troops, meanwhile, stared at the titan with shock. Not that Metroplex cared- he was gloriously full, and no amount of dissenting opinions could change that.


End file.
